


all the way home i'll be warm

by impossiblepluto



Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [11]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode: s02e12 Mac + Jack, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: An alternate ending for 2x12
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552330
Comments: 36
Kudos: 114





	all the way home i'll be warm

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> This story follows the idea that Mac was grazed in 2x11 Bullet + Pen and is a continuation of the last two days of this advent calendar. Reading "i'll hate going out in the storm" & "since we've no place to go" might be helpful. And it takes place as an alternate ending for 2x12 Mac + Jack.  
> As always thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy it!

The wire cutters in Mac’s hand click as he snips the last wire. He releases a breath that Pena would have scolded him for holding. His hand drops to his side, his knife tumbling from slack fingers, clattering on the floor. 

Jack’s hand is steady against his back. 

“It’s done.”

“Yeah?”

Mac licks dry, cracked lips. “Um… yeah…”

Jack rubs Mac’s shoulders. “Well, I think there are a lot of anxious people out there waiting for us. Better go let ‘em know that this Nightmare on Christmas is over.”

A harsh laugh bursts from Mac’s lips. 

Jack quirks his eyebrow. “You okay? That wouldn’t have normally gotten a laugh.”

“I’m just...” Mac exhales slowly, eyes staring unseeingly ahead for a moment before he focuses again. “I’m just really tired.” He pulls the brain of the bomb away from the explosives with arms the tremble.

Jack grabs the metal casing from his hands, setting it aside and pulling Mac into a tight hug. “I’m really proud of you, kid. Holding it all together, figuring it out.”

“That’s my job,” Mac’s voice is muffled against Jack’s chest, but he makes no move to push Jack away. Sinks into Jack's embrace and absorbing the offered strength.

“Yeah, but today has been like three days, and they’ve been pretty shit.”

“Always late, worth the wait.”

“You’re like a wizard, dude. Never late. And always worth the wait.”

Jack hauls Mac out of the crawl space under his house. He can feel Mac thrumming with residual nervous energy and sheer exhaustion. He keeps a warm hand on Mac’s shoulder, guiding him through the house, the interior still dim due to Bozer’s improvised power outage.

Mac glances through the window, eyes falling on the hundreds of people milling around at the end of his driveway, waiting on him. His body shakes harder.

“I can’t go out there,” he whispers. “It’s, it’s too much.” 

Jack squeezes his arm. “I got you, man. You want to sit in here, take a minute?”

Through the window, Mac’s eyes fall on Bozer nervously pacing, Riley pulling him into a hug as they wait, still worried that one wrong snip of a wire will ignite a fireball. Destroying the house, and killing him and Jack. Injuring hundreds of others who aren't home with their families because of the emergency situation The Ghost caused.

“No. They’re been waiting long enough.”

“Alright, then. Here we go.” Jack opens the door, slowly at first because there was just a bomb connected to it and even though he knows Mac disarmed it, there’s a little piece of him that still screams to leave it alone. 

Anxious eyes turn towards them, he feels Mac's gait falter beside him With a whoop and a smile he snags the bomb’s brain from Mac's hands and heft it over his head, commanding the attention of every police officer, paramedic and agent in the vicinity.

“Jack Dalton’s got your back!” 

A cheer erupts behind the barricade as Jack continues his gregarious monologue, forcing the crowd’s focus onto himself, and allowing Mac to slip down the driveway behind him in near anonymity.

Bozer, Riley, Charlie and Matty take turns hugging them, the profound relief and exhaustion is wreaking havoc with Mac’s emotions. He can see it in the kid’s eyes. He’s hanging by a thread. 

“Charlie, my man,” Jack hands him the metal box. “I’ll give you this. And I’ll take this,” he latches onto Mac’s arm, and begins pulling him up the driveway toward the GTO.

“Jack, the explosives are still under there. I’ve got to--”

“The only thing you need to do is get some sleep. You’ve been awake for like forty-eight hours.”

Mac looks like he might cry. “Yeah, but the house is still a crime scene. It’ll be hours before it’s secured. And then they’ll be dusting for prints and pulling out the wiring...”

“So we’ll leave it in Charlie’s capable hands.”

Mac frowns. People are depending on him. He can't leave a job half-done. 

"I'll supervise the removal Mac," Charlie reassures. "And I'll have every piece shipped back to my lab in New York. If there's anything we can use to track down The Ghost, we'll find it."

“I think I’ve got a bed with your name on it,” Jack says herding a wobbling Mac to the car. “Y’all are invited to Christmas, but no offense, I don’t want to see any of you until tomorrow. I can’t promise pastrami or even presents, but your presence will be my gift.” Jack hams up the pun as Bozer and Riley groan. Mac is too tired to even respond. Jack loads him into the front seat, folding in his long legs and takes him home.

Jack drags Mac up the steps to his apartment, the kid’s feet tripping every other step, even with Jack’s arm wrapped around him. If the kid goes down, Jack is pretty sure he’ll just roll over and take a nap right there on the stairs. Jack pauses their lurching ascent and sweeps Mac into his arms. 

Mac’s weak protests are interrupted by a yawn so wide it nearly splits his face in two.

He carries Mac up the last few stairs, through the apartment and into the guest bedroom, setting him on the edge of the bed. Mac sways dangerously. 

“Stay,” Jack instructs, pointing a finger in Mac’s direction. Once satisfied that Mac isn’t going to tumble off the bed, he turns to rummage through the dresser drawers, pulling out soft sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt. 

“Arms up,” Jack orders, plucking Mac’s white Henley over his head. “I’ll soak this over night to get the bloodstains out. You’re lucky they were all too relieved that we didn’t blow up to notice them,” he murmurs as he pulls back the dressing covering Mac’s side. No new bleeding or drainage from the wound. He dresses it again and then pulls the t-shirt over Mac’s head, tugging up and folding over the too long sleeves that cover Mac’s hands. 

“We missed Christmas again,” Mac says, as Jack tucks him into bed. 

“It’ll still be Christmas tomorrow,” Jack promises.

Mac frowns, blinking slowly. “No it won’t. It’s not even still Christmas now.”

“Sure it will. DXS can move Christmas. So that mean Phoenix inherited that skill, no one would dare say no to Matty. And you’ve saved Christmas enough times that they can do that for you. Official mandate, Christmas twenty-seventeen has officially been moved to December twenty-seventh.”

Mac smiles, heavy eyelids sliding closed. 

Jack brushes a hand through Mac’s hair, and leans forward, planting a kiss on Mac’s temple. “Sleep well, kiddo. Merry Christmas.” 


End file.
